


Happy Birthday, Dewey

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-20
Updated: 1999-09-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Is Dewey being stalked?





	Happy Birthday, Dewey

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEWEY
    
    Thomas Dewey popped a TV dinner into the microwave and set the time.
    He had just finished a day at the station, and he was spending the night
    at his apartment--alone, as usual. He hardly ever had dates, and he envied
    all of his friends for getting girls. Jack Huey went on dates, Ray Vecchio,
    Harding Welsh, even Benton Fraser went on dates on rare occasions. The
    thought of it made his teeth grind. 	
    As he waited for the timer on the microwave to ding, he glanced at the
    calendar. The nineteenth of September, a Sunday and tomorrow, was circled.
    The nineteenth was his birthday; he would be thirty-six. He was going
    to his parents house in Rockford that day. No one at the station had
    spoken a word to him on behalf of his birthday, not even Huey, his partner.
    
    The timer on the microwave went off, and he quickly went to pull out
    the hot dinner with a pot holder. Just as he set it on the counter, the
    phone rang. He went to the other end of the counter and picked it up.
    "Hello?" 	
    "Tom?"
    	
    "Uh-huh."
    	
    "Happy birthday." The woman on the other end of the line hung up. 	
    
    Dewey frowned and clicked on the reciever button. "Hello? You still there?"
    When no one answered, he hung up. At least one person wished me a happy
    birthday, he thought. 	
    After he ate his dinner, he turned on the TV and did a little channel
    surfing. He thought about seeing his mother and father and older sister
    Clair on his birthday. He really missed them. And they would go to service
    at the Lutheran church like they did when he was a kid. But even though
    his head filled with happy thoughts, a reminder of the phonecall crept
    in as well. It hadn't been Francesca Vecchio or Inspector Thatcher from
    the Consolate, because he would have recognised their voice. Maybe it
    was a love interest, but she would have at least said who she was. 	
    The telephone rang. "Oh, not again," he said aloud. He stood up, went
    into the kitchen, and picked up the phone, "Hello?" 	
    "Tom, it's your birthday." It was the same woman.
    	
    "Uh, yeah, I know," he answered. "Who is this?"
    	
    "You better expect a present." She hung up again.
    	
    Dewey hung up as well. "This," he decided, "is getting freaky." He picked
    up the reciever again and dialed Ray's cell phone. 	
    "Vecchio," Ray answered on the other end.
    	
    "Ray, something weird is going on," Dewey explained. "Some woman called
    me twice, and I don't even know her." 	
    "You sly dog!"
    	
    "No! I don't think it's a good thing." He began pacing by the counter.
    "The first time she just said, 'Happy birthday,' and then she hung up.
    The second time, she told me to expect a present. I don't get it." 	
    "Do you expect me to get it?" Ray asked. In the background Dewey could
    hear Fraser's voice, but all he could make out was the word "box." 	
    "Look," Ray said, "it's probably just a prank call. If anything gets
    messy, call me, okay?" 	
    "Okay. Bye."
    	
    "Bye."
    	
    Dewey placed the reciever back on the phone. He was getting nervous.
    He turned to the doorway of the kitchen and took a step forward. 	
    The phone rang.
    	
    This time Dewey almost jumped out of his skin. He turned slowly around
    and reached for the reciever. Then he stopped. "I'll let the machine
    get it," he said to no one. After the fourth ring, the machine picked
    it up. 	
    "Sup? You have made an attempt to reach me, Tom Dewey. However, I can't
    come to the phone, so just leave your name, number, and why you desire
    to hear the sound of my voice. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
    The machine beeped. 	
    "Nice message, Tom," the woman said. "Unfortunately, your friend Ray
    won't be able to help you. Just stay where you are, and wait." There
    was a click, and the message ended. 	
    "Oh my God." Dewey snatched up the reciever and dialed Ray's cell phone
    again. It rang, twice, three times, four times. "Why doesn't the idiot
    pick up?" he wondered aloud. Finally he dropped the reciever in defeat.
    The woman was right. Ray couldn't help him. 	
    Then an idea came to him. He dialed up Huey's cell phone. The phone,
    as Ray's had, continuously rang without answer. 	
    "No! Oh why, God, why?" He slammed the reciever down and walked to his
    computer. He got into his e-mail, and was not surprised to find a message
    from an unknown source. It read, "Don't leave your apartment. Just wait..."
    He typed out a message to Huey, misspelling a few word in haste: "Huey,
    yo gota help me. This chik keeps calling, she sent me an e-mail and its
    all freaky,." He hit the send button. 	
    That was when the doorbell rang. He spun around in his seat and stared
    at the door. After a moment, the bell rang again. 	
    "I might as well answer it," he thought, "and get it over with." He hesitated
    at first, but then he rose from the chair and made his way toward the
    door. 	
    The bell rang a third time, and Dewey's muscles tensed. He inched his
    hand out to the knob. 	
    The doorbell rang a fourth time. He turned the knob. The door opened.
    
    "SURPRISE!"
    	
    "Standing at the door was Fraser, Ray, Huey, Welsh, and Francesca. Huey
    was holding a cake, and the others held presents. 	
    "Oh my gosh, you guys scared me half to death!" Dewey admitted. "I thought
    you were that one chick that kept calling." 	
    "You mean me?"
    	
    Dewey's eyes widened. It was the same voice. A woman with long red hair
    stepped out from behind Francesca and smiled. "I told you to expect a
    present." She reached into her purse. 	
    "Oh my God."
    	
    But instead of the gun or knife that he expected, a box wrapped in blue
    paper came out. "Happy birthday," the woman said. 	
    Francesca grinned. "This is my friend Janine. I decided to set you up
    for a surprise blind date." 	
    "But...but she..."
    	
    "Called you on the phone and told you to expect a present," Huey finished.
    "We know." 	
    "That was part of the surprise party," Fraser explained. "That way you
    wouldn't suspect anything." 	
    Dewey frowned. "I was set up."
    	
    "Yes you were," Welsh answered. "And you fell for it like a ton of bricks!"
    He put an arm around Dewey's shoulders. "So, are we gonna party or what?"
    
    "I brought my kick the cabbage game," Fraser pointed out.
    	
    Janine took hold of Dewey's wrist, walked past him, and pulled him into
    the apartment. "I think it's time that you started celebrating, Tom."
    She turned to him and smiled. "Happy birthday." 
                           
    THE END
    


End file.
